


Spotlight

by Midnight Writer (mwc)



Category: Dream Team - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Blushing, Can George not blush?, Characters are in-game characters, Cute, First Kiss, Fluff, Kiss cam, M/M, MCC - Freeform, Minecraft, Mutual Pining, Short One Shot, minecraft championship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:27:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27835258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mwc/pseuds/Midnight%20Writer
Summary: It's the final challenge in the Minecraft Championships - Dodgebolt. Unfortunately, neither Dream's nor George's team made it to the top two, but they're there to support their friends anyway.Kiss Cam prompt with Dream and George spectating an MCC match. Short and fluffy to add to the DreamTeam fandom.(also help because idk how to tag for Minecraft or the DreamTeam so good luck)
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound, DreamWasTaken/GeorgeNotFound
Comments: 6
Kudos: 315





	Spotlight

The MCC arena is painted in forest greens and cool cyans, everyone cramming the fence to get a glimpse of the action about to unfold. Nothing gets everyone more pumped up than Dodgebolt. George huffs a laugh, wondering who’s more anxious - the players or the spectators. He’s almost glad he didn’t quite reach it this round, knowing just the weight of the pressure when fighting for the win. Still, he cheers on fellow competitors before turning to find a seat.

With a laugh he can’t quite hear over the sheer volume of the crowd, Dream leads them to some seats at the back of the stands, to see more of the action from a higher vantage. He rolls his eyes with a gesture at the pit. There’s not much of a chance to see through the wall of people, it’s good they didn’t even bother. 

It doesn’t matter as much anyway, now that there’s a large spectator screen at the front of the arena. Anyone with a decent enough seat can see the action up close and personal without sacrificing physical comfort. George shudders appreciatively; he’s not terribly fond of being stuck in a crowd, if he can help it.

It’s really not that hard to see the game either way, so the camera tends to gravitate towards the reactions of the spectators themselves. Big names smile and wave at the screen, sporting the color of the team they support - for which George entirely trusts Dream to grab him the right banner. Other times, lesser known Minecrafters get their chance to broadcast themselves across the arena.

They really shouldn’t be surprised when it becomes a bit of a joke - a prank - and people start making it a kiss cam. Exaggerated reactions and all, people give anything to spice up the content with some fluff or drama. Every _so_ often there’s the rare example of a genuine kiss to capture. But those are few and far between, and usually reserved for those with already established and public relationships.

So of course it lands on the two of them.

George, as ever, feels his face heat up, knowing everyone can just see how red he must be. Of course. Of fucking course. All these trolls trying to get him to even say “I love you, to his friend. Of course they would want them to kiss. Who planned this? Of course they had to be too damn good at crafting a stadium screen, of course it has to be Dream, why Dream?

Glancing over, Dream notices George’s precious blush as he tries to cover his face with his hands. If they were in their own world, Dream wouldn’t hesitate to prod George, get him flustered and bothered. Sometimes, even here, George makes him feel like they’re in their own world, and he can hardly hold back his broad smile.

But they’re not. This is MCC. And they’re on camera.

Shaking his head, Dream motions for the camera to cut. A chorus of boos floats up from the audience as he waves a hand at his neck. His own chat shouts at him in the background, scrolling rapidly with complaints. Still, he shakes his head. It’s different, more natural, when he gets George to blush all on his own. It’s… fake here. Not genuine. Not the right moment.

The screen flickers black before returning to the tournament.

…

George leaps up, shouting at the top of his lungs two octaves higher than anyone else. Green Guardians have put up a strong start, and it wouldn’t be a stretch to believe they can sweep. One more win could snatch them a flawless victory.

"GO TUBBO!" George encourages, his voice being drowned among the many other cheers.

Dream claps beside him anyway, cupping his hands around his mouth, "CARRY THEM TUBBO!"

Snickering, George sits back down as the tournament resets, nudging Dream.

"He really does carry them, doesn’t he?"

"Yeah," Dream chuckles. "Honestly, he deserves to be there. Second place! Part of me hopes he can actually pass Quig."

A rise in whistling catches Dream’s attention. George’s eyes don’t move from the field, flicking between the two top contenders of the championship. Dream barely glances at his chat and nearly falls backwards.

The words "kiss" and "Gogy" and "blush" all overwhelm him until he blinks up at the screen.

They’re back. The camera’s back on them. Again. On the kiss cam.

Who the hell is controlling the camera? And how the hell do they know everyone wants to see them kiss? Don’t they know it’s a cold day in the Nether when George will ever think of that? Don’t they know how much it hurts not to?

Nudging George with his elbow, he nods up to the screen. As soon as he looks up, his blush paints his face a deep rose once again. Before he gets a chance to hide, Dream snatches his wrist.

"Let’s split up," he nearly chokes on his own words, but if it stops this… "They can’t get us both on the screen if we aren’t together."

Nodding quickly, George takes off to sit close to the action. With a heavy sigh, Dream stands, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets. He tugs his hood further over his mask, as if he needs to hide more of his face.

…

It’s a tie-breaker in the endgame, everyone on their feet and sweating as hard as the champions on the field. No mistakes are made, but only the best pogs have gotten both teams this far. No one contests that they deserve to be here, but damn if it isn’t an intense match.

The camera thankfully scans over more scenes of the riled crowd, different angles of the field, colorful and conflicting banners.

Dream leans casually against the fencing around the ledge. He feels the energy of the stadium, sympathizes with Tubbo’s sweat on his brow, a twinge of disappointment that their team didn’t make it but proud all the same. Still, his eyes struggle to stay on the game.

Across the field, George jumps excitedly, pushing himself up from the fence. A smile breaks under his mask. George really isn’t that short, but watching him using the fence humors him. He’s perfect the way he is, he’s just also an idiot.

_But he’s my idiot._

Blinking, Dream shakes his head. He did _not_ just think that. He can’t. George would never- they can’t- No, not happening. He can’t let himself hope, he knows it’ll only lead to disappointment.

His chat drops to a whisper, and he glances at it curiously.

_GeorgeNotFound: omw_

On his way? Where?

Glancing back up, Dream watches George covertly slip between spectators. Wait, is he really trying to get close again? Though, with this many people around, it would be nearly impossible to spot them. Even with his bright green hoodie, he almost blends in with the colorful crowd.

Shuffling, Dream tries to swallow down the nerves in his stomach. George just wants to hang out. It’s not like the camera can really find them again. Two times is only a coincidence, that’s it! That’s all. They’ll be safe here.

The crowd’s cheers and screams have reached a climax as the teams whittle each other down. It’s really coming down to the wire. Everyone jumps at the slightest breath, too focused on catching the winning moment. No one notices as Dream shoulders past, or as George weaves through.

"Hey!" George shouts over the crowd toward Dream’s ear.

"This is it!" Dream shouts back, straightening and watching over the crowd’s heads. 

George nods fervently, rising to his toes to see over people’s shoulders. Frowning, Dream watches his struggle. Can he really not see?

Don’t do anything rash, Dream. They’re trying to blend in, not stick out. Small price to pay. 

But, George really should see the ending. Even if he can’t, he’d sacrifice his dignity to give George the opportunity. Unfortunately, that’s exactly why he can’t. He can sacrifice his own dignity for George, but he can’t pawn George’s own against him.

"Let’s get closer!" Before Dream can explain why being exposed is a bad idea, George doesn’t give him much of a choice.

George drags him along by his elbow, Dream’s hands still stuck in his hoodie. He can’t stop George as he pulls him all the way to the front. Dream usually doesn’t mind being tall, but being tall in the front wearing a bright green hoodie-

Tubbo looses the final shot, and it hits.

The Green Guardians wins.

The audience roars, horns blaring victory for the green team. The new screen blares the Guardian mascot with the members’ names. Confetti rains from everywhere, and the chat blows up. People are screaming at each other just to be heard, but mostly are making noise for the sake of noise.

"Tubbo did it!" George cheers, and Dream can hear him over anything else. There’s many reasons he wears his mask, but he’s thankful it hides his own dusted cheeks as he beams. He’s proud of Tubbo for sure. But George. His eyes twinkle even behind his tinted glasses. 

Neither of them notice the crowd dissipating slightly from around them. People will be filtering to the lobby anyway, they have to go congratulate the team. George flashes a wide smile up to Dream, and he freezes to the spot, as if Frost Walker boots stuck him to the floor.

"Wasn’t it great, Dream? That was amazing!"

"Y-yeah!" Dream pushes out from his breathless lungs, face burning hotter. George doesn’t help when he punches him lightly in the stomach.

"Man, you’re wheezing again!" he teases, laughing himself and trying to wave down to the winners on the field.

Wheezing, yeah. From laughter; no. Over George? Most definitely.

Turning to lead them to the lobby, Dream finds something suspicious. The crowd hasn’t really left. They just gave them space. Making them obvious, almost framing them.

Oh no.

Turning to glance up at the screen, he sees it, his own mask partially turned away as the camera focuses squarely on him and George.

Glancing back to the wall of spectators, he realizes it’s a trap. When George turns, he realizes it too.

"Uh, Dream?" George frowns up to him. Over his shoulder, he notices the kiss cam again, watching his own face blossom. "Oh… we’re trapped, aren’t we?"

"Yeah."

"What’re we gonna do? It’s not like we can just leave," George shrugs, not meeting Dream’s eyes, not that Dream’s much more focused. "It’s dumb, that stupid camera. Why did we even make it? It’s like someone’s against us or something. What’re you thinking, Dream?"

Sucking in a breath, Dream watches George’s blush grow impossibly deeper, touching the tips of his ears as George keeps glancing away. He shrugs again, voice dropping lower, defeated.

"And it’s not like we can… ya know? It’s dumb, why did I-"

"OH FOR CHRISTS SAKE!"

Before George can blink, Dream snatches George’s collar. Lifting his mask from his face, Dream keeps their faces covered from the camera as he gives in. He snatches the breath right from George’s lips as they brush. Warm lips touch, for a brief moment, before Dream pulls back, hiding behind his cold white mask.

The cheering fades from George’s ears again, replaced by the beating of his own heart. His heart must be in his cheeks for how hot they feel. His lips feel cold as Dream steps back. Part of his mind belatedly catches that he spotted some of Dream’s dirty blonde hair, but didn’t get a good look at his face. He was a little too busy being kissed.

They both awkwardly filter out with the now satisfied crowd.

Shuffling behind the bulk of the crowd, their ears finally stop ringing from the commotion, the world returning to a normal volume. He may not be able to see half the colors, but now George is certain he can’t hear half the world anymore either.

Neither of them have spoken. Dream keeps his hoodie far over his head, hands deep in his pockets, his nervous habit. Whatever just happened, he can’t just keep silent next to Dream. All this time, trying to avoid the camera, and Dream just… 

He never thought he was serious. They joked all the time, and George - _oh I’m such an idiot!_ \- kept pushing him away. They were only friends, right? Dream would only get disgusted if he knew George actually secretly hoped they kissed.

But they did. They did kiss. It was brief, now only a fleeting memory, but it was there. He would die to feel those lips on his again. But… will they ever have that chance now?

"I wonder why the camera kept coming back to us," George shrugs, blaming the situation. That’s all Dream was doing. He was trying to just get that stupid camera off of them, that’s all. Yeah… that’s all Dream did. He should just forget that happened, Dream probably already has if he won’t even look at him.

Dream shrugs, his hoodie shuffling but not anymore noise. Did he really go deaf, or is Dream being silent? He’s only silent when he’s focused, when he’s trying to escape, survive, not die. It’s a survival instinct. Is he really trying to escape George?

Just as he opens his mouth to ask, Dream beats him to the punch.

"You- We- That.... You can forget that, if you want."

"Dream?"

"Sorry! I just thought- I don’t know. I don’t know what I was thinking!" he snaps, hands flying from his pockets to gesture towards the crowd. "They wouldn’t stop! They wouldn’t stop and I thought it would shut them up, and-"

"Dream-"

"I probably just trashed your stream and I’m so sorry ‘cause I know everyone’s gonna ask-"

"Dream!"

"Just forget it George! I’ll tell everyone it was just a prank! They couldn’t have known anyway, since I used my mask-"

" _Dream!_ "

Blank eyes and fake smile turn towards him, but George glares straight through his mask.

"Did you mean it?"

"Did I-? Yeah! I mean, I meant it! I always do! But I know you hate it- you hate _me_ now, I’m sure! I’ll just leave."

A hand darts into Dream’s hoodie pocket, finding his hand. Fingers catch his own, and Dream freezes again, rooting to the spot.

"You… meant it?" George forces himself not to look away. He needs this, he needs to know.

The hoodie slowly nods.

"Then…" George huffs, trying to release his own tension. "Let’s go congratulate Tubbo. No need to leave yet."

There’s no words. Dream physically cannot speak. His mind goes numb as George pulls him along again, this time by his own hand in front of him. He can only make a vague estimate that how hot his cheeks feel must be what George’s red flush looks like. Still, a smile slips up under his mask, letting his fingers weave between George’s.

~

Above in the control panels, BadBoyHalo beams at his friends. It might’ve been a little crafty, but hey, it worked.

Sapnap claps his shoulder, wiping away tears from his eyes. He shoves cash into Bad’s hands, who blinks at the offer.

"Here, thank you my good man," Sapnap smirks. Bad glances between the camera and the cash.

"Uh…"

"What?" Sapnap chuckles. "I told ‘em I’d pay the cameraman who focused on them. I’m actually glad it was you, though, Bad. Man, wait ‘til I tell ‘em!"

"Ah," Bad smiles shyly, running his hand through his hair as he slips the cash into his pocket. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices the potion of immobility wearing off the employee who was supposed to be manning the camera.

"Of course, Sap. Team effort!" he raises his hand for a high five, and Sapnap hits it so hard it stings.


End file.
